I Loved You Before I Met You
by Lotheriel
Summary: "He saw her and his world stopped spinning. He saw her, and he was complete." Elijah meets his soul mate. Staying in 'my' world/canon described in He Is A Patient Man and The Joy of the Hunt (as well as the prequel Yesteryear). Rating will change to M as the story progresses.
1. In An Ancient Mind

_A/N Staying in 'my' world/canon described in __**He Is A Patient Man**__ and __**The Joy of the Hunt**__ (as well as the prequel __**Yesteryear**__) it is about time we start in on Elijah and his one true mate, or 'Her' as she is simply referred to in TJOTH, don't you think?_

_We start off with a prologue, completely played out inside Elijah's mind. To understand what is going on, the situations described, it is important that you are familiar with the show, there is a list in the Authors Note at the end with links to the scenes where his thoughts in this chapter occurs._

_On some occasions it is also helpful if you have read the two first stories of mine mentioned above. It is not absolutely necessary, but if you haven't read them and are confused by a reference in this chapter, rest assured that he is referring to something mentioned in one of those._

_The story stays canon until the final events of the season 3 finale, after which we go AU. I really hope you like this! R&R please._

-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Y:E17**_

He saw her.

He saw her and he couldn't believe his eyes. His carefully controlled facial features slipped, slipped like they hadn't in centuries. From an outsiders point of view he may only have remained frozen for a second, maybe two, but for someone able to move like the wind and think many times as fast, it was an eternity.

All the things that went through his mind, it would take a book, no a library, to describe them all. And yet, so easily summarized. He saw her. He saw her and his world stopped spinning. He saw her, and he was complete.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Unique. She was completely unique. There was no need for him to approach her to know who she was, or to know who she was not. They had been pretty, those who wore her face in the past. But the true amazing beauty had not been theirs, much as he had fooled himself to briefly believe so. How he could have thought so, now when he was faced with his undeniable soul mate, he did not know. She, she was undeniably unique, and really did not look like them at all. Maybe it was they who had looked like her, on the surface.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Too young. She was too young. An eternity of disapproving looks might not be enough to deter him, but he knew it would bother her. He could not let her know, yet. Once she knew there would be no turning back. The possibility of being rejected never crossed his mind, was never a viable outcome. She was, is, will be his mate, and once he awakens her to this there will only be one direction still open for them. But she was too young.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Keeping her alive. Keeping her alive to grow older, to not be too young, this was going to be a chore. Watching her infatuation with immature men, maybe even boyfriends, this would be difficult. But she needed to mature, in her own pace. No one can learn from others mistakes. Not even him.

Not for many years, just enough for there not to be a questionable age difference. Just enough for her human body to finish the development of the brain that the final burst of growth hormones induce, the one that his sister never went through. And just look at her… No, a few more years, he can keep her alive a few years. He is sure of it. Just to be on the safe side he will make sure she always has his blood in her system, which will alleviate the possible fears of a freak accident. To turn or not to turn, that really is **not** the question, she will forgive him. Yes, just a few years, a few years of other men? Anger, where did that come from?

-o-o-o-o-o-

His. She was **HIS**! What was the use of his near-godlike powers if they could not be used to enforce such a simple truth? Time to grow up and mature did **not** mean time for other men, no. Fangs lengthening, dark veins flickering under chocolate eyes, the imagined taste of hot blood running down his throat as a male heart beat frantically with terror, slowed down and finally stopped. Discard them like the trash they were, he would, those who would presume to covet what was his. Yes, she was his, whether she knew it yet or not. They would know though, those who tried. Anger turns to hunger at the thought. Much better. She was his, and he was hers. Completely hers.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Too close. He could NOT get too close. He wanted to protect her so badly, he wanted to connect with her even more, but the role of best friend and confident was not his, had never been his, would never be his until the truth was known to her. She was his mate, and he was hers. He could stay in her life, must stay in her life, but only if he did not show her the truth until the time was right. How can he stay close enough yet keep himself from sharing the truth?

-o-o-o-o-o-

Scare her. Yes, he can scare her. That would be an answer to many of the problems. Then he can stay close to her, be in her life, but not lose the allure. Yes, he can scare her, and then he could even to some degree indulge in his need to be physically close to her without divulging too much. He could use his proximity to intimidate her. Yes, he can scare her. That would work. Let's try that, what is the harm?

-o-o-o-o-o-

Delicious! She smells delicious. She wears the face of others he has known, but that were not his mate. **Her** scent however is intoxicating. It calls him. He ran to her. He almost kissed her, what is he, a hormone filled human? He must try harder to scare her, this will not do! Tear her jewelry, yes. Compel her and let her remember being compelled, yes. Good, but not enough. Ah – He wanted to kill that traitor anyway, he'll do it in front of her with his bare hands. That should do it.

Yes it did. Almost too well. But, at least now she is scared. That is what he wanted, wasn't it? But **this** frightened? She shouldn't be quite this frightened. He never wants to hurt her. Well, what is done is done.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Her heartbeat. Her heart beats so fast under his palm on her arm. Her eyes are so wide. Maybe not just frightened? No, her scent tells him she is not just frightened. She feels it perhaps, on a subconscious level. She shivers when he looks at her, at least part in response to the vibration between their souls. Good, she feels it too.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Her saviors. Her saviors arrive when she **needs** no saviors, she has him! Asks him not to hurt them, 'I will go with you'? She states this calmly as if offering her life, when his soul is filled with offering anything for her, so confusing. She is willing to save her saviors, willing to offer herself for them. He seethes at the thought. She is willing to go with him to save them? She does not see how she is everything and they are nothing? He will change her perception, in time. He is a patient man. It confuses him, his concentration is lost. She is already his weakness, one he gladly succumbs to. The coat rack piercing his heart is fitting. She pierced his heart. Stole it. Made it stop beating, made it start beating. Just like the piece of furniture turned into a makeshift stake. No matter, he will wake. The 'savior' will pay. Maybe it is for the best, it is not time to take her yet. She is too young…

-o-o-o-o-o-

A ring. He must have a daylight right, her savior, her Salvatore. The satisfaction of watching the glass shatter is diminished by the impudent young vampire being the only one not affected by the sun. How annoying. Well, at least they are scared, now. Silly Rose, did he not just pardon her? And now here she is again, opposing him.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Anger. Seething anger slightly released by the ripping of hearts. Never has it felt more right to take a life, or three, than in this moment. They thought to threaten her? To threaten **her**? There is no need to correct and teach about the error of their ways, it is enough to make sure they will never threaten her again. He cannot get too close. Perhaps her saviors have a purpose after all. Yes, he will let them live, even the staker. They can help keep her safe while he cannot reveal the truth to her. Removing them after that will be easy, simple, _gratifying_.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Negotiating. She is **negotiating** with him? His heart swells at her courage. She is unique, truly unique, and _his_. His brave warrior queen, his Valkyrie. If he had needed any more proof, which he didn't, he has it now. Of course she again wants to save her savior, the other one, the one who gets to touch her. His fangs almost pierce his tongue as they extend without his control. What happened to his control? Oh yes, it is in her hand. That's alright then.

-o-o-o-o-o-

His heart. She pierces his heart. As if she had not already. He saw what she did, manipulating him into agreeing, again. He allowed himself to agree, again. His fascination with her courage was never ending. The smell of her blood as the knife pierces her abdomen intoxicating. Not yet, she is too young. Still too young. Better to let the dagger pierce the heart that is already hers and incapacitate him, than to lose his control and take her too soon. His pride in her perseverance to follow through on a plan so painful to herself swelled his heart and he let her still it, his Valkyrie. He let himself be overcome. He surrenders. As if he hadn't already, the moment he laid eyes on her.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Of **course**. Of course she was the one to wake him. Walking along the lake her presence filled his whole mind, his whole heart, his whole soul. For as moment he allowed himself to be near her, beginning to tell her the truth. The first few shreds, the shreds that would prepare her for the whole package once the time comes. But not yet, no, not yet. Her scent, so intoxicating. He could almost wish she had another dagger, but he holds it now. He holds the dagger that can still his heart, while unbeknownst to her she owns it anyway. His heart. Her heart. No difference. She left for a moment, but she came back. He watched her tremble at the slightest touch of his fingers on her elbow. Yes, she felt it too.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Alive! Thank the dísir*, she was still alive! He had let his blood exit her system before the ritual with his brother so that the elixir would work, for she was _**still**_ too young, only to have the older of her saviors ruin the plan, forcing his own blood down her throat. He will make the insolent boy pay for this! She told the younger savior with tears in her eyes that she does not wish to turn and he had expected nothing less, once he gained a more in depth knowledge of her soul. However, the option of losing her is not a viable one. When the time comes, it will not be a lesser vampire's blood that turns her. When the time comes, she will turn with the full strength that comes from the blood of the eldest original sibling. He will give her that at least.

For now, placing the thought of an alternative means of salvation into the mind of her father, already guilt ridden, was enough to revive her humanity intact. When the time comes, she will ask him to change her. They will be blood bound, forever.

Now, to keep control of his younger brother. He must leave. But the 'savior' will pay. Yes indeed, he will pay.

-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Y:E18**_

Back. He is back. Months of desiccation just so the ruse of her death will live. Yes, little brother, you will pay too. The time to remind you of just who you are playing with draws ever nearer. Perhaps he has been too lenient. Perhaps Niklaus has actually started believing, in his megalomania, that his hybrid powers makes him the stronger man, he has allowed his baby brother to live his illusion for some time after all. He always did have a tendency to fool himself, little Nik. He is not disillusional enough to fight it once Elijahh puts his foot down though. And now, with Mikael gone, he is truly the head of the family. The family, yes. Together again.

Some thanks to Niklaus may be in order. The younger savior is firmly under his thrall. She is becoming free of her teenage infatuation of him. It had to be done, but he did not wish to force it. Now Niklaus did it for him. She is free. Soon, it is time to speak to her.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Trust. She trusts him. That is a good start. Still, betrayal is around every corner. For him, and for her. If it was time the choice would be simple, as it is it is better for the ruse if he chooses family over her. Yes better. He thinks.

Her skin grew goosebumps as he speaks to her. Her gratitude for him saving her from his sister did not cloud her judgment or impact her reactions. No. She wanted him. She did not know it yet, but she wanted him. Not claiming her mouth, her body, her soul, took more self-control than he has had to use for over one thousand years. His.

**HIS!**

-o-o-o-o-o-

Too close. No matter how he tried he was getting too close. He must do something. He will write her, yes that could help.

'…. Always and Forever, Elijah' Yes, now he can go, create a distance, leaving it on her desk.

-o-o-o-o-o-

A necessary distraction. His Little One is a necessary and good distraction. For a moment he was worried what to do with the growing emotions he inflicted on her fragile soul, but thankfully his youngest brother stepped in and felt nearly the same vibrations he himself did when he met Her. What a beautiful coincidence, and how fitting. Of course a potential mate for Kol would be one such as Little One, or Kitten as his brother named her. For now she was still his distraction, but he knows the time will come to let her go.

Still, allowing his dominant side some release was welcome. Very welcome.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Too young. She is still far too young. Thank god he managed to get her out of the water in time, compelling that young vampire, (Stefan?) to forget he was ever here. He would have words with his sister, she **knows** how he feels and that his mate is too young. Only a few more years. His sister will never touch her again, she knows better now. He has made sure she will never forget.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Alive. Yes, she is still alive. The hours spent at her bedside in the hospital, feeding her his blood to help her brain heal the effects of oxygen depravation felt endless. But she is alive, still alive. That female doctor had tried to inject her with blood. Again that older savior, will the threat of it being his blood that turns her never cease? But she stilled, stopped and stilled when he offered his arm for her to fill the syringe. First an injection, and then he could start feeding her. Every hour more color returned to her cheeks. Every moment his fear of this being her last as a human faded. The way his heart started beating hard enough to almost feel human as her gentle lips latched to his arm to take more, ever more, of his essence felt surreal. Wonderful. He can't wait to watch her do it consciously. For now this is enough. Alive, she is still alive.

The doctor had to forget he was there, of course. There is no trusting her not to tell. But she has a supply of his blood now, and will never give anything else to Her if it is needed. She will not know why, but she **will** use her special stash on Her, only for Her.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Yours? No, I don't think so. Mine. _**MINE! **_It is really quite enough now Niklaus. You will back down or I will make you. Can't be killed? Oh, you just keep telling yourself that, little brother. Do you want to test that theory?

Those daggers, I will take them now, thank you. I said NOW! You are really becoming too tiresome, this charade of your supremacy has gone on long enough. You know as well as I do who the head of our family is. I have indulged your wishes long enough. It is time for you to bend your knee and submit your fate to me. I don't care what you do to your little toys but you **will** show me proper respect. NOW!

_**Are you challenging me?**_

No? Good. Wise choice.

Enough little brother. Enough with your plotting and scheming. I love you, but now is the time for you to back down. Here is a sample of her blood. There is the contact at the genetics lab. Mass manufacture as much of it as you need, but she is my mate and you will never touch her again, do we understand each other? Good, I'm glad. Family above all, Always and Forever. She is family, you understand? Good. Yes yes, you are welcome. Why not earlier? Well, you never asked, little brother. Remember, I love you.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Called off. He has been called off. The younger one still in thrall to his brother, no longer compelled but never meant to be more than a foot soldier. A killer, a good killer, but not a thinking killer. The break was clean, and none of his doing, the younger one managed to destroy what had been there all on his own. He watched her affections for him turn from youthful infatuation to care for a friend. He watched her own friends affections for him turn from friendship to infatuation. he watched her first accept it, then support it. Good. The younger one is called off.

-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Y:E20**_

Time for another bouquet, four times per year. On midsummers eve and midwinter night, turn of the spring and turn of the fall he contacts her. Sending her the flowers that grow wild in three of the seasons and a bouquet of winter greens for the fourth. Always a card, always the same message. 'Always and Forever, E'.

He is keeping his distance, but he will not have her forget him, or think him gone, no. Every delivery her smile is wider when she receives them. She keeps the cards. When the immature young men at her college tries to invite her out, he has seen her through her window, look at the cards before turning them down. Only a few more years.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Again, again they try. Her blood sings to every vampire in reach. Again he has caught one lurking outside her window. Again he has to wipe his hand after dropping a heart. When will they learn? She is his. She is untouchable.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Called off. He has been called off. The older one, a skilled tactical mind that one, once his impulsive tendencies are broken. He finally decided to let him live, at least for now, despite the staking and the infuriating obsession with Her. That he didn't die after kissing her, after trying to claim her once the younger one was out of te picture was noting but a testament to Elijahhs restraint. Never had he so wanted to tear out a heart as when he realized Damon was seriously trying to bed Her. His saving grace was not elijah's restraint, but hers. That she had turned him down, reluctantly but still.

Finally, Elija had not been able to stand it any more, he had called the older one away. He had found the one that used to look like Her, the one who had turned the saviors, and made her believe the only thing she had ever wanted was the older one. Once she truly made him believe this, the older one had not been able to prevent himself from claiming her, for old times sake. When She walked in on them, finding him in bed with the one who wore her face and that had made her life a living hell, she had cried for days. He hated seeing her so sad, but now the older one was out of the picture also.

He had broken his own rule and visited her that night, calm enough to just hold her after sating his burning need with his Little One before going to see Her. He held her while she cried in his arms over another man, a man he himself had caused to betray her. That was the older ones second saving grace – had he made her cry like this from his own devices he would not have lived the night.

At the end of the night She had stopped crying and simply rested against his chest, her hand entangled in the hair at the back of his neck. He had felt her heart beat and she had snuggled just a little closer than necessary. Sated or not, not claiming her then had taken almost more out of him than he possessed.

She was sad after losing both her teenage loves, his mate, but just for a moment. She knew in her heart they were not the ones for her. In her heart she knew who was, her body knew who was, it was just her mind that was still in the dark.

-o-o-o-o-o-

_**Y:E22**_

Almost there. He is almost there. He has managed to keep her alive, hard work though it has been. He has managed to cleanly sever her ties to her vampire love triangle. He has managed to watch over her and keep himself alive in her memory. He is almost there. He has begun disentangling himself from Little One, giving his baby brother more and more time with her on his own although he still joined them on occasion, even claimed her alone, mainly before going watch over Her. The incredible need in him for Her needed to be dulled before he dared get too close. He sated himself with Little One, in ways he would never do to Her, until it was safe for Her to have him close by.

He had begun visiting her dreams from time to time, just to watch. Sometimes he found himself in them and his heart soared. At these times he could not help but touch her face, stroke her back, embrace her gently. He knew she would not remember much when she awoke, but he remembered. He remembered everything.

Maybe it is time to re-introduce himself into her life? Can he hold off much longer? Does he want to?

-o-o-o-o-o-

_Footnotes:_

_* - 'Dísir' is plural of Dis, the word for female deities of fate in Norse mythology. Freya is the main Dis, the queen of Dísir, but Eijah is not thanking her specifically, he is thanking them all._

-o-o-o-o-o-

_A/N Yes, I know, this is the third 'in progress' story I am writing. However, they are all different and stimulate my writing itc in different ways. We have the smutty TJOTH, the flashback Yesteryear and the emotionally in-depth Valkyrie. All will be continued, never fear ;)_

_You cannot write full links on this site, they get censored. If you want to refresh your memory here is a list of links to the scenes referenced, named for the first words of the paragraph. All links below start with that tube place. I'm sure you know the one? Type the domain in your browser and paste the rest after that._

_From "__**He saw her**__" to "__**Delicious**__"  
/watch?v=Ew0ypEfhzXA – starting at 2:55  
"__**Her heartbeat**__" and "__**Her saviors**__"  
/watch?annotation_id=annotation_70592&feature=iv&src_vid=Ew0ypEfhzXA&v=06lpTJPVAKM  
"__**A ring**__"  
/watch?v=lg9b0MqceRA- starting at 1:05  
"__**Anger**__"  
watch?v=rQyVUmCDDGs  
"__**Negotiating**__"  
watch?v=XCZYhNX1vNY  
"__**His heart**__"  
/watch?v=5ZThRzBK7Mc  
"__**Of course**__"  
/watch?v=EFrW6EW7kqk_


	2. Beloved Finally!

_**A/N – **__Elejah moments coming up –Let me know if you enjoythem :)_

_**Cambridge, England, September 2017 (Y:E23)**_

Elena walks down the corridor to her lecture hall, still in awe that she is here in one of the world's oldest universities. It is difficult for her to grasp that she is walking the same halls as Dickens, Darwin and Shakespeare – ready to go to lectures in the same auditoriums as all of them went to and in some cases taught at. When she received her letter of acceptance to the Masters Program she first didn't believe her eyes, thinking she must be on the butt end of a cruel prank – but once she realized it was true she didn't waste a minute longer than necessary before crossing the Atlantic.

Once she arrived she settled in quickly and started to prepare for her first semester at one of the oldest universities in the world. Not even her four years in an Ivy-League college compared to this. Admittedly, the gorgeous accent of _everyone_ she spoke to was rather distracting; she kept expecting to see Klaus, Rebekah or Kol around every corner. However, since the one who _really_ filled her mind had an accent that was hard to place rather than the Queen's English of his siblings, it wasn't as hard to ignore as she had imagined it to be.

Thinking about him, she realizes it's only a few days until the turn of the fall. She wonders if his flowers will find her here. It only took her a few seasons to realize exactly when and why the bouquets arrived. So, he still held true to the ancient ideas of the power of the sun and moon, despite the curse being a constructed lie. He would remind her of his existence on the shortest day of the year, the longest day, and the two days of the calendar when day and night were perfectly balanced, no matter what day or date it was. It was as if he made himself a constant in her life, as constant as the turn of the seasons, even if she had not seen him in years.

He wanted her to remember him, she was sure. There was no other reason for him to act like this, constantly reminding her of his presence. Sooner or later he would come for her, she thought. She hoped. She wished for. But of this she _wasn't_ sure. She wanted it to be true though, so she had discouraged wannabe suitors for years now. It was no chore, truly. She lost her virginity to her childhood sweetheart, pretty early and with no bells and whistles. Then there was her vampire lover, as soft as a summer breeze but not very exciting. Sex had never been something that occupied much of her thoughts. It was nice, cozy and comforting. That's all.

For a while it looked as if that could have changed. As a teen she was pursued by supernatural beings and loved by men with centuries of experience, finally almost ending up in bed with one of gods' gifts to women (or at least that's how he saw himself). Sleeping with Damon would had been good, to be sure, if fact likely even mind blowing. But she would not, could not, use him like that. She loved him, but not the way he loved her, so turning him down was the hardest and nicest thing she had done for him, all at once. Still he kept on pursuing her, but just as he was wearing her down Katherine re-entered the picture, having suddenly come to her senses and realized that Damon was all she ever wanted in life. Damon, at first flabbergasted, quickly forgot all about his teenage flame and returned to his previous state of Katherine's love-sick puppy. The last she heard of them was a voice-mail from Tokyo, they sounded happy.

Now she had spent the last couple of years harboring the illusion (delusion?) that one of the oldest and most experienced creatures on earth held a flame for her and all she needed to do was wait for him. No, keeping the clumsy human boys at a distance was no chore at all. Convincing her own heart that she hadn't gone crazy and that Elijah actually felt something for her WAS a chore though, especially as she had not laid eyes on him, OR spoken to him, for years. Maybe he was just being a gentleman, maybe the flowers weren't even from him.

As year added to year and no word came from him, aside from the flowers, the surety she had felt began to fray. By now she didn't even know if she had imagined it all. Aside from the words on the card, how could she even be sure the flowers were from him? She wished it was the season for daises so she could grab one and start counting petals. 'He loves me, he loves me not…'

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She wakes up with a stiff neck after falling asleep while studying. Her cheek feels a little bit numb and when she passes the hallway mirror she can see that the bindings from her notebook have left a perfect striped impression from her temple to her chin where her face rested on it after collapsing mid-sentence. 'Classy, Elena. Really Classy!' she mutters to herself as she half walks, half stumbles towards the alcove that serves as her bedroom.

Her apartment is not large, it barely holds enough space to fit her desk, that doubles as a table when necessary, a comfortable reclining chair and her bed. But, it is not a dorm. She has her own kitchen (well, kitchenette) and her own miniature bathroom. Her name is on the door and she has to sort through her own junk mail that gets pushed through the post slot every day. All in all, she is happy here, living the life of a 'normal' 20-something in one of the worlds' oldest universities.

This was all she ever wanted, so why is there this nagging feeling in the depth of her soul that something is missing? Maybe she lived in supernatural-land too long to ever feel comfortable in the world of 'normal' again. The thought passes through her mind right before her head hits the pillow and sleep reclaims her.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_The rolling waves beat a lullaby against the rocky shoreline. There is something about the scent in the air, something so very fresh and unspoiled, that makes her think she is somewhere far from industrialized society. Somewhere, or somewhen? A seagull cries high above the waves before diving into the ocean only to emerge a moment later with a small fish in its' beak. Her bare feet take in the sensation of the craggy cliff beneath their soles and the sun warms her skin, her entire being feels at peace. She does not know where she is but this is a gentle place. A good place. _

_Living in and enjoying the moment she walks along the shoreline, watching the rolling waves sparkle with a million miniature suns as the large original star in the sky is reflected in the water. The waves that lap at her ankles are cold, colder than she expected, but it does not bother her. The smell of salt fills her nostrils and it smells like home._

_Far in the distance she can see another figure, standing still as a statue right where the sea meets the land and facing slightly away from her. Walking closer she notices long brown hair with intricate small braiding along the sides, likely to keep it out of the persons face but beautiful none the less. Even closer, and she realizes that she is looking at a man, the closing distance allows her to make out broad shoulders and muscled arms, barely covered by a short sleeved rough linen tunic. A belt holds the waist of the tunic in and also serves as the mid-way anchor to a beautifully worked leather sheath, placed in an angle over the man's back from shoulder to lower hip. The top of the sheath rests at his shoulder, and from it the pommel of what can only be a quite massive two-handed sword produces. _

_Closer still and she can see that the linen tunic is adorned with intricate embroidery, adorning the neckline, the cuffs and the hem. Below the hem, covering an equally muscled lower body, are a pair of tight fitting leather breeches that hugs his shapely backside and legs all the way down to where they disappear into thick leather boots, tied to his lower calves with supple, braided leather strings._

_His shoulders are broad, his hips are narrow and his entire being radiates strength and power. Despite not having seen his face she is sure this is a man with both great strength and great responsibility. He stands still as a statue while gazing out over the ocean, only the subtle rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes giving a hint of life to his form. From her vantage point she can just barely make out the strong angle of his jaw which is tensing and releasing as if he is somehow struggling with himself as he throws his gaze over the wide ocean before him._

_She knows she is dreaming now, and so she becomes bolder, moving even closer. The wind brings his scent to her nostrils. It carries no hint of soap but is still very pleasant. Well cared-for leather mixed with a soft note of musk and just a hint of a scent that must be all his own. It is strangely familiar, her brow furrows as she tries to figure it out. Further emboldened by the dream-status she moves in closer, almost all the way up to him. Her curiosity is getting the better of her and her heartbeat picks up as the realization hits her of who this might be. Such a beautiful insight into the world that was his in his youth, she feels humbled – yet it does not feel controlled. Is she in HIS dream rather than the other way around? And, what is he looking for? IS it him? She reaches out with a slender arm to touch his shoulder, never stopping to think how such a movement towards his weapon might be perceived, not even thinking he will notice her presence._

_Her shock is profound when he whirls around, grabbing her wrist in a hand of steel and pulling her towards him, an expression of defending anger on his face. Then he sees her, truly sees her, and her shock does not lessen from the immediate change in his expression from anger to bewilderedness to unbelieving yet unbridled joy. His hand on her wrist relaxes but does not release her and his other hand reaches up behind her to pull her whole body against his own, allowing her the full impact of his rippled torso against her own soft chest. A beatific smile spreads over his features as he presses her against him, staring deep into her eyes._

'_Älskade. Äntligen.'* His soft murmur vibrates throughout her being as the warrior before her gently lowers his face towards hers and claims her lips, and her soul, as his own._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Her eyes open wide and she gasps as the shock and depth of emotions in the moment kicks her out of her sleep. Staring into the darkness around her she lifts her hand to her lips only to find them swollen from his kiss. There is only one word in her mind and it escapes her without thought.

'Elijah…'

.

.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

*_Älskade. Äntligen. = Beloved. Finally!_


	3. Dreamed You Into Life

**A/N Hello my lovelies! Thank you SO much for your lovely reviews, I appreciate each and every one more than I can say. Your comments had the immediate effect of a (rather) quick update. Especially after having one of my stories deleted it feels good to know you can appreciate my not-so-smutty writing also :)**

**As many of you already know I write most of my stories in the same head canon and I tie them together somewhat, often mentioning things that has happened in another of my stories inside the context of whichever one I am writing at the moment. If you are reading "Yesteryear", or at least have read the latest chapter, the beginning of this chapter has more meaning, as it takes place the morning after the events of Yesteryear CH 3.**

**I especially appreciate your enjoyment of 'my' Elijah, both in personality and how he is so strongly connected to the old world. Please keep telling me what you think!**

o-o-o-o-o-o

_I knew I loved you before I met you  
I think I dreamed you into life_

o-o-o-o-o-o

**_Britannia 989AD (Y:E-1051)_**

He awakes even earlier than he normally does. The camp is quiet aside from the crackling embers of last night's bonfire and all of his men are still asleep, save those unfortunate enough to have drawn the night watch. The sun has not risen yet, but the eastern sky holds that magical pink glow that heralds the morning's imminent arrival. The most diligent birds are already up, filling the air with their melodic calls.

Elijah carefully frees himself of the blankets as not to wake the woman entangled in them, her bare body snuggled in between his own and that of his sibling. He smiles wryly to himself when he recalls yesterday's raid and hopes his little brother enjoyed the lesson he had imparted on him in the aftermath to take his mind off the uneasiness of the first kill. Seeing the content and rather proud expression that not even sleep has managed to wipe off of Kol´s face and the way his arm easily rests slung over the naked form of the woman it would seem a safe bet that he did.

Carefully stepping over the sleeping pair while he re-ties his breeches and throws a linen tunic over his bare chest he decides to take a walk down to the ocean. Something has disturbed his sleep and he has yet to figure out what it was. The sea always seems to help him think more clearly so he will go seek her out to see if whatever worries him decides to surface. Almost as an afterthought he grabs his broadsword and ties the sheath over his back. Walking alone and unarmed in enemy territory is a mistake only the most inexperienced would make, and Elijah is anything but inexperienced. In his late twenties with over 10 years of experience with summer warfare he no longer notices the weight and would feel more naked without his sword than without clothes. Once equipped he nods at the watchman and sets off towards the rocky edge of the land.

As every Norseman he thinks of the sea as a woman, a fickle mistress at times yet also a steadfast bride and provider to his seafaring people. The summer grass is springy and fragrant under the soles of his boots as he crosses the sloping meadow towards the shoreline. The closer he gets the more pronounced the soothing, meditative sound of waves rolling in becomes. He can feel his mind relax as it always does in her presence, his gaze set on the horizon and his thoughts seem to fly as far as his eyes can see. There is something, something he cannot quite pinpoint. He feels like he is waiting for something, or for someone.

He does not know how long he has been standing there, letting his soul fly over the waves, when there is a miniscule shift in the air. There is someone behind him. His warrior's reflexes react without thought when his nerves sense the heat of a human body reaching towards his sword and he spins with the grace of a cat to capture the wrist of the offender in a vice like grip.

But, there is no one there – his hand closes on air. In the midst of his confusion he thinks he can feel the sweet scent of a woman behind the salty tang from the ocean, the sound of pearly laughter almost but not quite heard within the swell of the waves. Something twists and turns inside him, in the space where _She_ belongs. That secret space they were all taught as children would shift as a quiet avalanche when they finally met The One. A space he never thought would move for him, having always known that his fate as the heir was to marry for the clan, never to be allowed to seek out his hearts true match. Undeniably, it moved, yet the long stretch of rocks between land and sea is empty. There is no one there but him, and a hint of a scent, an echo of laughter.

He shakes his head to clear the fog from his mind and decides to go back to the camp. Crossing the meadow on his way back the rising heat of the summer morning is causing mist to rise from the ground, floating around his ankles thick enough to obscure his view of the ground in that magical way his people call "the dance of the fairies". But of course there are no fairies there, only mist. He finds it strangely fitting.

.

.

That night was the night he dreamt of her for the first time.

o-o-o-o-o-o

**_Great Britain 2017 (Y:E23)_**

His entire body shakes when he is thrown out of his dream. The same dream, of course, it has been the same for over a thousand years, ever since that day he thought he felt her by the ocean, but still so different from all the other times he has lived and relived it.

Unlike the actual event from his youth that morning before he began dreaming of her, the dream always allows him to actually capture her wrist, and her scent and laughter has become clearer with time. After a while he started seeing her features, vaguely. When he met Tatia a few years later, after his wife had already perished in the same plague that stole his brother from them he really thought he had finally met her, only to be cruelly disappointed.

The dream stayed the same for more than five hundred years after that, and then Katarina came along. With her arrival his Mate's features became clearer still, but yet she always slipped through his fingers, leaving only a fading memory of scent and sound. Katarina's fondness for the game of catch-me-if-you-can felt like a cruel joke in this light.

Another five hundred years had to pass before the scent and the sound entered his waking hours. Had he known when he began dreaming that it would take more than a thousand years until she finally arrived in his life he might have gone mad. In a way perhaps it was best he didn't know. But he DID know, the moment he saw her. It was so profoundly different that he cannot imagine now how he could have mistaken the others for her.

Still, the dream stayed the same. Until tonight. Tonight he saw her clearly but more importantly, tonight _she_ saw _him_. After more than a thousand years **_she_** finally saw **_him_**!

She did not only see him, she stayed, at least for a moment. She melted into his body as he pulled her to him and her head tilted back to meet his lips. A moment later she was gone and he jerked awake, the taste of her still on his lips.

Tonight he kissed her and she tasted like home.

o-o-o-o-o-o

_I knew I loved you before I met you  
I have been waiting all my life_

o-o-o-o-o-o

**A/N **

**Short, but sweet? So, Elijah didn't enter Elena's dream, SHE entered his dream, without him knowing it huh!? :) He still doesn't know she actually was there, btw.  
Knowing how it actually went down, re-reading Elena's dream from last chapter may have added depth now.**

**The song that the entire story is named for, fittingly enough, is the absolutely fabulous "I loved You Before I Met You" by Savage Garden**

**Do note, the first 989 AD part is NOT a dream, it is what actually happened before he started having the recurring dreams. **


End file.
